


creeps inside of me, makes it hard to breathe

by kamaba



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Depression, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:47:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26853940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamaba/pseuds/kamaba
Summary: Ponyboy knows there's something not right about the way he's been feeling lately. It was easy enough to hide in the house and pretend it wasn't happening over the summer, but with school starting back, it gets a lot harder to act like he's not choking on the anxiety that gets caught in his chest.
Relationships: Darrel Curtis & Ponyboy Curtis & Sodapop Curtis
Comments: 11
Kudos: 49





	1. One

The summer of 1966 came in hot and went out hotter. As it always did, the heat made people restless and a little bit stupid. It seemed like Soda came home every other night with a new story about someone acting crazy out at the strip. Sometimes, Soda _was_ the person acting crazy out at the strip. Or Steve. Or Two-Bit. But not me. I had been sticking fairly close to home this summer. It was quieter in our neighborhood. I mean, our neighbors liked to live it up as much as the next guy, but they never had the dough to do it up right. If they wanted to see any action, they had to go out and find it at one of those places the guys liked, where they sold cheap beer and didn’t call the cops so long as no one lost an eye or got blood on anything it wouldn’t come out of. 

Granted, I’d never set foot in a lot of those places. But this summer, even the Dingo had lost its appeal.

Soda dragged me out with him and Steve a few times, back when school just got out. I tried my best to act like I was having a real good time for Soda's sake, but I always wanted to split as soon as we got wherever we were going. Everything seemed so loud and being around all those people made me feel antsy in my own skin, like I was supposed to be putting on a show for everyone when really no one was even looking at me. It didn't help that Two-Bit always tagged along. That guy always has to be the center of attention and he isn't happy until he has me dragged into it too. 

Speaking of Two-Bit…

"Ponyboy Curtis!"

I flinched, my hands scrambling on the railing for something to grab onto before Two-Bit got ahold of me. But it was no use. He had me tackled off the front porch railing and face-first into the grass in a second flat. 

"Two-Bit!" I complained. "I think there's dirt up my nose."

He cackled as I plugged one nostril and blew. He laughed even harder when it turned out I was right and a pinch of topsoil came flying out. 

"Think of it this way, kid. At least we aren't making you drink it no more," he said, holding out a hand to help me up. I eyed it suspiciously but eventually decided he wasn't gonna drop me back on my behind if I grabbed on. He tugged hard and pulled me to my feet, brushing the dirt off my jeans with the back of his hand for good measure. I swatted him away and sat back up on the porch- on the step this time. That way, if he came at me again, I'd at least have a shorter ways to fall. Two-Bit plopped down next to me.

I pulled a pack of smokes out of my pocket and took one before I offered him the pack. He helped himself and lit us both up. "You would though," I grumbled. "If you could still convince me that's what coffee was made of. Lucky for me, I'm not six anymore."

Two-Bit grinned. "Shoot, pretty sure that was still working on you when you were ten."

I tried not to wince as I felt my face go red. That was the problem with hanging around with guys older than me. They remembered the dumb stuff I did as a kid but I was still in diapers for all their stupid stunts. 

It was late in the afternoon now. Darry wouldn't be off for a couple of hours yet, but Soda and Steve were probably getting ready to turn things over to the second shift guys. That meant I had about an hour left before I had to start dinner. 

Over the summer, supper had been pretty much completely turned over to me. It made sense to me because I was bumming around at home while those guys were out working all day. Darry kept saying that I didn't have to and the couple of times I didn't, he didn't yell or anything. But when I watched him or Soda cook on those days, I got a kinda sick feeling in my stomach and got it in my head that every time they put a spoon or a glass down on the counter a little too hard it was because they were secretly mad at me.

I finished my cigarette and pulled out another one. Two-Bit turned down a second but lit mine for me.

"Thanks," I said. 

Two-Bit nodded. "I don't know why I'm being so gosh darn helpful when you got me in trouble with your big brother earlier."

"Darry?"

"Nope," he popped his 'p' and played with his lighter a little too close to my face for my liking. I scooted away as far as I could get without leaving the step. "The other one. That tall, fizzy drink of water that works at the filling station? Has questionable taste in friends?"

I rolled my eyes. "I know who Soda is. Why's he mad at you and what do I have to do with it? I wasn't even at the DX today."

"And boy howdy, did I hear about it!" Two-Bit exclaimed. " _'Where's Pony, Two-Bit? Why didn't Pony come with you, Two-Bit? I don't give a rat's furry brown ass about seeing your smiling face, Two-Bit._ That last one was implied, but trust me, I heard it loud and clear like."

Oh. I shrugged, scratching at the skin under my thumbnail. "That wasn't your fault. Did you tell him you stopped by and asked me to come?"

"I did. Guess he thought I should have hogtied you and dragged you behind my car or something."

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I just didn't feel like it today."

It was quiet for a second. I looked up and saw that Two-Bit was staring at me with that serious look on his face that my brothers sometimes got when they were thinking real hard about where they went wrong with me. It looked just plain wrong on him, like someone stuck a court suit on a rodeo clown.

He sighed and bumped his knee into mine. "I gotta tell you kid, it seems like you ain't feeling like much of anything lately."

Sometimes my shrugging drives Darry up the wall, but Two-did doesn't seem to mind when I shrug and stare down at my bare feet in the grass. He's not wrong. If I knew why that was, maybe I'd tell him. But all I knew was that my breath had been getting caught in my chest an awful lot lately and it happened a lot more when I was out with people. Besides, I'm sure Darry was happy that I wasn't getting up to as much trouble as I usually did. And Lordy, I'd given Darry enough trouble over the past year to last a lifetime. 

Don't get me wrong, I still do my fair share of fighting with Darry. Glory, me and him will still be fighting when our kids stick us in the old folks' home, waving canes at each other over who got more applesauce or something. But I've been trying. Really, really trying. Even if it doesn't always seem like it.

We sat there, more silent than I realized Two-Bit could be, until I finished my cigarette and stubbed it out in the pot my mother used to use for flowers but we've only ever used for ashes. 

"I should get supper on," I said as I stood up. 

Two-Bit nodded. "Yeah, you better get cookin', good lookin'. Holler for me when it's done, I went and worked myself up an appetite entertaining those grease monkeys at the DX. Would you believe they had the nerve to toss me out for ' _being a bother to paying customers_ ' and ' _holding an open flame too close to the gasoline pumps_ ' and ' _stealing shit_ '? Glory, what's the world coming to these- hey!"

He yelped when I planted my foot in the middle of his back and pushed hard, sending him sprawling into the dirt.

"Don't worry about the dirt none, Two-Bit. I hear it tastes like coffee!"

I didn’t make it back to the porch for hours after that. Darry and Soda did the washing up after dinner, but I knew I was expected to hang around in the kitchen until they were done, for moral support or something like that. Two-Bit hung around long enough to get fed and was showing no signs of heading back to his own house anytime soon. The same went for Steve, who whupped us all at poker and got on my case about not buddying around with Two-Bit enough. After what I’d heard that afternoon, I wasn’t surprised to hear Steve say that when he wasn’t with me, Two-Bit was making a nuisance of himself down at the DX and Steve had just about had it.

While the other guys were getting ready to deal themselves another hand of poker and Darry had his nose stuck in his newspaper, I feigned a cigarette craving and escaped out onto the porch. I liked hanging around with the guys, but lately it seemed like it was taking more and more effort to keep from drawing the wrong kind of attention to myself. If I said the wrong thing, Steve was down my throat. Two-Bit was always looking for a reason to make fun of me. And if I spaced out for a few minutes, I could practically hear Darry thinking about how I had my head stuck up in the clouds. Then there was Soda, who meant well but could sometimes be a little too concerned about me. I wasn’t sure which was worse.

I’d tried hanging out in my room when I needed a little space, but Darry accused me of moping and that was the end of that. So, the porch it was.

The sound of breaking glass drew my attention inside. Darry was using his pissed off voice, and I couldn’t hear either Two-Bit or Steve cracking smart remarks, so it was safe to assume they were the sources of the property damage. My suspicion was confirmed when Sodapop slipped out and joined me in the night air, careful not to let door bang shut behind him.

He frowned at my empty hands. “You’re not even smoking out here.”

“You _want_ me to be smoking?”

Soda rolled his eyes, tugging me into a half-hearted headlock and mussing my hair. I laughed and tried to squirm away but as gentle as he was being, he had a decent hold on me. I ended up tucked under his arm, sitting next to him on the porch swing, which was fine by me.

“Smart ass kid,” he admonished, resting his head on mine. “What I meant was, if you’re not smoking, what are you doing out here while everyone else is in there? Does somebody stink?”

“Mhmm,” I agreed. “Steve.”

“I knew it.”

The sound of Darry yelling faded into his regular talking voice, joined by the sound of an arm-wrestling match in the living room and crickets hidden somewhere in the dark.

“Seriously, Pony,” Soda said after a beat. “Everything okay?”

I shrugged. “Headache.”

As I thought about it, I realized it wasn’t really a lie. My forehead was kind of throbbing, and I had a feeling it wouldn’t go away until I could finally close my eyes and rest my head. That had been happening a lot recently- my head feeling too heavy on my shoulders and my eyelids too heavy on my face.

Soda frowned. I felt him tug me closer to him and I gratefully burrowed into his shoulder. Without the hot, Tulsa sun in the sky, it was getting pretty chilly out on the porch.

“Come on,” Soda urged. “Let’s get you inside.”

Two-Bit and Steve didn’t look up at us when we came inside, too absorbed in their arm-wrestling-turned-regular-wrestling to care. But Darry tossed his paper on the floor and held his arm up, gesturing for me to sit on the sofa next to him.

“I oughta make you cut back on the smokes there, kid brother,” he complained as I settled in. “Seems like I hardly see you anymore.”

“He has another headache!” Soda tattled, rubbing his hands together as he watched our buddies pummel each other on the living room floor. He waited for a break in the action and then dove into the fray.

Eyebrows furrowed, Darry caught a hold of my chin and tilted my head side to side, like he could through the skin and hair to where the pain was pooling in my brain. “Yeah? That true?”

I nodded to confirm, wincing at how much worse it felt now that I had acknowledged it.

“Maybe we should get your eyes checked out before you head back to school. Remember how dad used to get those migraines when it was time for him to get new glasses?”

Trying not to scowl, I shook my head. That was the last thing I needed, to go from the greasy kid mixed up in a murder rap who skipped a grade to being the _four-eyed_ greasy kid mixed up in a murder rap who skipped a grade.

“Darry…” I complained.

But Darry shook his head, and I could see his mind was already made up. “We’re going,” he said firmly. “I’ll see if I can get that Monday before school starts off and we’ll make a day of it. Go out and get you some new school clothes while we’re at it.”

“I have clothes!”

Looking down his nose at me, he stuck his finger through one of the holes in the bottom of my shirt and popped it back out through a different one. “What you have is a pretty convincing swiss cheese costume. You can’t go back to school looking like nobody takes care of you.”

Darry had been on sort of a kick about Soda and me ‘looking like somebody takes care of us’. I didn’t really understand it because I look how I look and Darry _does_ take care of us, so shouldn’t that mean I already look like somebody takes care of me? I’d tried that argument on my oldest brother exactly once and still ended up getting the haircut I didn’t want, so I didn’t see the point in trying it again.

“Sounds expensive,” I muttered.

Darry poked me hard in the side, scowling as he did it. “Last I checked, I was the adult around here and you and your brother were the snot-nosed kids. So quit your yapping and let me worry about that.”

“Not for long!” Soda chimed it, struggling to pull his head away from Steve, who had it locked between his knees. “A little more than a month and I’ll be one of the adults too.”

Shaking his head, Darry eyed the pile of teenage boys on the floor with disdain. “And lord help us all when that happens.”

I tried to smile but suddenly my headache was twice as bad as it had been and my palms were starting to sweat. It was happening again- that thing that sometimes happened where my breath came fast but wouldn’t go deep enough. I pulled away from Darry so he wouldn’t feel me panting. My vision started to blur as I tried to count the swirls on the textured ceiling, only getting as far as ‘ _three’_ before losing my train of thought and having to start again. I changed tactics, listing all the cuss words I’d ever heard in my head until I was distracted enough to stop panicking that my next breath wouldn’t come.

The rest of the gang was none the wiser, except for Darry who was looking at me oddly when I finally spared a glance in his direction. For one awful moment, I wondered of I’d been cussing out loud, but he seemed concerned not angry, so maybe I was just a little pale.

“Alright there, Ponyboy?” he asked.

I nodded, forcing a quick grin. “Yeah, Dar. Fine. Everything’s fine.”

I should have smoked that cigarette while I had the chance.


	2. Two

In the parking lot at the eye doctor's office, I flung open the door to Darry's truck and jumped back, almost hit by a falling shoe box. I put my new running shoes back in the truck and shoved at my shopping bags until they were stashed in the footwell. They'd been thrown haphazardly on the bench seat on our way to my appointment because we had been running pretty late. It was my fault, no surprise. I guess I'd been a little indecisive while we were shopping, not picking anything out for myself and worrying about the prices too much. It wasn't long until Darry got frustrated and started yanking things off the rack himself. We didn't leave until he'd decided I had enough shirts without hand-me-down grease stains on them to get me through the school week.

"Sorry, Darry," I sighed, hauling myself up into the passenger seat of the truck. "I guess that was a waste of time."

Darry eyed me with half a grin on his face as he hopped in next to me. "You're sorry your vision ain't messed up? That's a new one."

I waited until his eyes were on the road before I turned to the window and rolled my eyes, irritated that he was deliberately misunderstanding me. I may not have much sense at times but I definitely had enough not to let Darry catch me rolling my eyes at him.

"It was worth it just to hear someone else tell you to quit reading in the dark so much," he continued. "When I say it, it goes in one ear and out the other like there's nothing in there for it to stick on."

I shrugged. "Sorry," I repeated.

Darry reached over and shook my knee a bit, still smiling. "Man, you're the sorriest kid I've ever heard of. While you're at it, you gonna say you're sorry for leaving these on the floor of my truck?"

He fished around on the floor for a second, then held up the new pack of briefs he'd made me get at the store. They must have fallen out while I was messing with the bags. I snatched them back and glared, feeling a familiar heat start in my ears and creep down the back of my neck. _He's just joking around_ , I tried to tell myself. I knew he wasn't being mean about it or anything, but sometimes I got myself into thinking a bad thing about Darry and couldn't shake it no matter how hard I tried.

Darry chuckled. "I don't know what you're so embarrassed about, kid. Who do you think washes 'em half the time? It ain't Soda, that's for sure. You don't like what color he turns your eggs, you really won't like what he does to those."

I smiled back at him and almost meant it. I'd rather have my big brother teasing me than hollering at me anyway.

Darry's good mood was confusing considering the two hours we wasted at the optometrist's office and all the money he handed over for my new running shoes. He said he didn't mind doing it, but he would probably feel differently when I grew out of them in six months like I always do. Darry was the same way, I guess. He says that means I may end up as tall as him one day, but Soda says he'll chop me off at the knees before he lets both of his brothers tower over him like Darry does.

We made a pit stop at the drive thru, where Darry remembered to tell them to leave the mustard off my burger, even though I couldn't work up the nerve to ask him to. The greasy paper bag landed in my lap, napkins spilling out onto the floor. I'd been too worked up over my appointment that morning to eat much breakfast so even though it was only a little past one, I was feeling pretty starved. We pulled into a parking spot and ate our lunch while Darry told me about this new roofer that was messing up and causing all sorts of trouble at his job site. I nodded along and pretended I'd been listening to his stories all summer and I knew exactly what he was talking about. I hated how absentminded I'd been lately. I couldn't focus on anything.

The truck was back on the highway before Darry made his move.

"So...there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

I scowled. Whenever Darry's been meaning to talk to me it's always about something he thinks I've been doing wrong. How come he never means to talk to me about us winning the lottery or Steve going on a nice, long vacation to the Antarctic?

He was probably waiting for me to have something to say about that, but I kept my eyes out the window and didn't respond. I figured we were only about five minutes away from home and I was pretty pleased about that until I realized he was turning off the exit that would take us out into the country. That usually meant he was fixing to keep me stuck in this truck for however long it took him to make his point.

"Dad used to do this, you know."

Darry looked away from the road a second to frown at me. "Do what?"

"Wait until we were in a moving vehicle to talk to me," I explained. "You know, to keep me from escaping,"

I could only see the side of his face, but I could tell that Darry was pleased that I'd brought it up. A while back, the guidance counselor at the school told him that he was supposed to try and make me talk about mom and dad more or else I'd grow up repressed or something. I think he must have told Soda about it because ever since they'd give each other this real satisfied look every time I talked about mom and dad without chewing on my nails.

"You think I need this truck to keep you from runnin' off on me?" he asked, grinning.

"If you ever wanted to catch up to me, you would."

Chuckling, he took a hand off the steering wheel to dig a finger into my side. I swallowed a laugh and pressed myself against the passenger door, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"See, that's what I wanted to talk about," Darry said. "I barely ever hear you joking around like that anymore."

"You miss me mouthin' off to you all the time?"

He didn't hesitate. "Damn straight I do. I'll take mouthy over mute any day of the week. And you can't tell me you haven't noticed Soda looking like a kicked mutt every time you spend a Friday night on the couch instead of out raising heck with those other meatheads."

I winced. I _had_ noticed. And I absolutely hated hurting Sodapop. But it had to be better for him to get out some without his drag of a kid brother. He'd get used to it eventually.

"I'll try harder," was all I could think to say. That one usually smoothed things over with Darry alright enough.

But this time he sighed. "I just wish you didn't have to _try_ to want to live your life, kid. I wish it came a little easier for you. I know this was the first summer in a long time you weren't palling around with Johnnycakes all day. I'm sure that doesn't feel too great."

He was watching me better than he was the road, maybe waiting for me to wince like I sometimes did when people brought up Johnny or Dal. I just shrugged. Sure it didn't feel too great, but if I was being honest I hadn't really thought about it like that. I'd been kind of wrapped up in holding down the mess inside my head to think much about all the time Johnny and I spent people watching downtown or using the payphone outside the library to prank call the DX. Maybe that made me selfish. I didn't want to say anything in case it did.

It could be that I _was_ feeling so off because of Johnny. The two of us always did feel more comfortable around other people when the other was there. What I was feeling was a little like that awkward feeling I got when Johnny wasn't around and I was stuck trying to figure out if I was really being a tagalong or not. Except multiplied by a hundred.

I didn't like to think about that stuff. I could feel my throat getting tight and rolled my shoulders like that would help open it back up again. I had to distract myself before I was bawling in the front seat of Darry's truck like that girl he dumped three weeks before their junior prom. (He didn't want to be tied down, he'd told her. Seventeen-year-old Darry was kind of a jerk. I bet you if mom and dad had died two years earlier, Darry would have crammed me and Soda in a wicker basket, left us on the steps of the boys' home, and run for the hills.)

"I guess," I admitted finally, lurching forward to spin the radio dial until I could hardly hear myself think. Which was sort of the point. Darry rolled his eyes at me and turned it back down to a volume less likely to be heard all the way in Arkansas.

"I like that song."

Knowing full well that I didn't, Darry shook his head. "Give me two seconds before you blast our eardrums out of our heads. All I'm saying is I don't want you thinking those guys don't want you around because that ain't true. Hell, Steve likes to run his mouth but he keeps telling Soda he ought to drag you out of the house by your ear."

"How does Soda take that?"

Darry grinned. "He thinks it's a little harsh. But then again, he says the same thing about me…"

When Darry finally let us go home, we were the only ones hanging around the house. Soda and Steve were at work. Two-Bit was wherever he usually was, getting up to whatever he usually got up to, and I was glad I didn't know anything about either of those mysteries. Darry offered to throw the ball around with me, and I agreed, mostly because I thought it would help him worry a little less about what a wet blanket I've been. I think he could tell my heart wasn't in it because we packed in long before my jeans were caked with dirt and my eyes were stinging with sweat. That almost never happened with Darry.

Eventually, Two-Bit showed up and Soda came home bearing pizza and Steve. Soda nabbed me by the chin as I walked into the kitchen. He got up right next to my face and squinted as he looked into my eyes.

"Well?" he demanded. "What's the damage?"

Darry squeezed past us and pulled the pizza box away from Steve, who was holding one slice in his hand and dangling another from his teeth. Tossing the box on the counter, my brother jabbed a finger at the stack of plates with a dangerous look. Steve rolled his eyes, but grabbed a plate.

"Doc says his eyes are fine."

I managed to shove Soda away but a second later, Two-Bit was right there in his place, shoving three fingers so close to me that I had to back up before one went up my nose. "You sure about that? Ponyboy, how many fingers am I holding up?"

"Say Ponyboy, how many am _I_ holding up?" Steve smirked, flipping me the bird. I checked to see if Darry was watching before I did it back.

"Steve, knock that shit off before I knock your block off."

Grinning to myself, I stepped around a scowling Steve and claimed two slices for myself.

We sat down in the living room to eat, and just this once, Darry didn't put up a fuss about at least Soda and me eating at the table. Our parents had always made a big deal out of the night before school started. While we didn't exactly follow their old traditions, some of them stuck- like ordering pizza so no one had to cook. And I was sure Darry was going to kick everyone out and strongly suggest I head to bed early, even if the guys ended up coming back later on.

"I can't believe it's already time to send these kiddies back to school," Soda said, nudging Darry with his elbow. "Time for us working folk to have the house to ourselves again, huh Dar?"

Darry raised an eyebrow at that, unimpressed by being grouped in with our goofball middle brother. "Did you remember to take the check down to the electric company, working folk?"

"I absolutely…did not. Sorry, superman."

"I can take it after school tomorrow," I volunteered quickly. Odds were, Darry and Soda wouldn't actually fight over something stupid and little like this, but I was eager to avoid it all the same. "I won't have track for the first few weeks anyway, so I can get there before the place closes."

Soda perked up, dropping the lid of the pizza box on Steve's head as he reached for a slice. "Track?"

"Pssst, Sodapop," Two-Bit hissed, gesturing for him to lean in close. "It's like a drag race," he stage-whispered. "'Cept, instead of a car he uses his big 'ol feet."

My brother whacked Two-Bit across the back of the head then turned back to me, grinning from ear to ear. "You're going out for track again?" he asked.

Glory, I must have really been a recluse this summer if Soda thought I was quitting track. I nodded, mouth full of sauce and cheese.

"Good. That's tuff stuff, kid. You'll get to hang out with all your old track buddies. And I bet I can make it to almost all of your meets, what with me working first shift and all."

Steve made a face at that, probably picturing how many of those meets he was going to be dragged to.

"I'll take the check over before work," Darry interrupted, not one to be distracted like the rest of could be. "Ponyboy, I want you taking a step back around here, now that school's back in session. Soda and I will handle keeping the lights on and things running smoothly. You just focus on making the grades. Dig me?"

I nodded because what else could I do? Darry had given me almost the exact same speech last year at this time, and lord, look how that turned out. And with this damn fog in my head, I didn't have much hope that this year would be any better.

But it had to be. It's what Darry and Soda needed from me. Darry was making it clear that I had one job this semester, all A's. What kind of useless punk would I be if I couldn't even manage that while my brothers were out there working their tails off? I stashed my plate under the coffee table and half-listened to Soda and Steve telling us about the old Triumph their boss was letting them fix up for him.

I wasn't hungry anymore.


End file.
